


A Fractured Life

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Ableist Language, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, BDSM, Daddy Kink, Dark, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers barges into Howard Stark's hotel room and his life.  Howard's not sure why he finds the kid so intriguing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's the story I mentioned on my tumblr. Steve's a prostitute, Bucky's a pimp, Tony's a hippie (sorry, *hipster*) and Howard is... Howard. I will probably expand on the 'verse, but no promises. I've got a lot on my plate as you all know. I wanna get back to the WIPs, but work is horrible and doing things to my head, which does things to my productivity. Sorry, y'all. I'm doing the best I can.

Howard stares in surprise at the boy who has just barged into his hotel room. The kid's skinny, blond hair sticking every which way, gaunt cheeks flushed, his blue eyes wide with fear—who has eyes that fucking blue, seriously? He's obviously not a guest here; his jeans are too tight, and too dirty, his shirt threadbare. Howard picks up the paper from his doorway and sees hotel security head his way. After a moment's thought, he closes the door behind him. 

The boy sprawls back on the bed with a sigh, then leans up on his elbows, and gives Howard a crooked smile. "Thanks." 

"Yeah, well, I don't think you're a thief or a murderer." He takes in the hickey on the boy's neck, his swollen mouth. "Whore?"

"I prefer sex worker."

It takes Howard a moment to realize the kid isn't joking. "Jesus Christ." He runs his fingers through his hair. "If I ask why hotel security is after you, will you tell me the truth?"

The boy shrugs and rubs his fingers against the duvet. "I'm not a hotel courtesan."

"Sweetheart, this is a five star hotel. Guests have brought in busloads of whores—excuse me, sex workers—without the staff batting an eye." It was one of the first hotels to rebuild after the crisis.

The boy blushes. "I kind of made a scene."

"Were you going door to door propositioning guests?"

"No!" The boy glares at him indignantly. "One of my johns brought me here. He kicked me out without paying! Even after I let him bareback!" He crossed his arms over his chest. "I was just trying to get what was owed me." 

"Are you even old enough to be a whore?" Howard raises an eyebrow: he doesn't look much older than fourteen or fifteen.

"I'm licensed." The boy pulls out his wallet and opens it. "See?"

He rolls his eyes; getting the state board to give you a prostitution license was as easy as greasing the right palms. Or letting those palms grease you. "So tell me, jailbait, are you a free agent or do you have someone pimping out your ass?" 

"I've got a pimp. And my name's Steve." 

"Well, Steve, is your pimp gonna smack you around because your john stiffed you?" He isn't sure why he's asking.

"Why?" Steve bites his bottom lip and looks up at Howard from under lowered lashes. "You got an idea of how I can make up the money?"

He snorts. "I don't fuck kids. And don't try to bullshit me, Stevie-boy. I know you're not sixteen." Steve gives him a petulant look that reminds Howard of Tony. "Is he gonna beat you?"

Steve shakes his head. "Bucky wouldn't do that to me."

Bucky? What the hell kind of name is that? "No, he just peddles your ass on the streets." 

"What do you know about it?" Steve lifts his chin and gives Howard a stubborn look.

"Nothing I guess." Howard leans back against the desk. "Of course, I'm not sitting in a stranger's hotel room, broke, with come oozing out of my ass." Not today anyway.

Steve blushes a bright red and shifts uncomfortably on the bed.

"Why don't you take a shower? I'll have the hotel launder your clothes."

"Why?" Steve gives him a wary look.

That's a very good question. Too bad he doesn't have an answer. He shrugs. "I've got five hours to kill before I head off to the airport."

"Going back to Malibu, Mr. Stark?" Steve gets to his feet, slips out of his shoes, and pulls off his shirt. 

"So you know who I am." Of course he does.

"You were all over the tabloids yesterday. You and that redhead with the big… um… you know."

Howard leers at Steve as the boy wiggles out of his jeans. "Yeah, I know." 

"You can join me in the shower if you want." Steve cocks his hip, smiling coyly. 

He carefully looks over Steve, then says, "I prefer big tits to little dicks."

Steve scowls at Howard, ears turning a bright red, and storms into the bathroom. 

He shakes his head. God, teenagers were so easy to poke, it was almost no fun. He calls downstairs for someone to come pick up Steve's clothes, then orders them breakfast. No doubt Steve hasn't had a good meal in, well, ever. 

***** 

Howard stares out the window, one hand braced against the wall, taking in the skyline. It's so much less impressive than it was twenty-three years ago. But even with all the reconstruction, with all the millions he's poured into the state, hell, into the city, growth has stagnated. 

God, he misses how it used to be. He misses—

The door to the bathroom opens and Steve finally emerges, looking damp and flushed, a towel wrapped around his waist, his torso peppered with bruises. Breakfast is spread out on the table. He doesn't know what the kid likes, so he ordered a bit of everything. 

"Eat," he says, gesturing to the food. He doesn't have to say it twice; Steve sits down and takes a big gulp of milk. 

"It's real!" Steve's eyes widen in surprise.

"What? You think I'd drink that powdered shit?"

"We used to get it sometimes at the orphanage. Then the Maggia took over." Steve shrugs and shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "These are real, too?"

"Yup." Howard sits at the table and sips his coffee. Steve practically inhales the food, making happy little noises. "How long have you been a… sex worker?" 

"Couple of years." Steve rubs his nose with the back of his hand. "Bucky got kicked out of the orphanage and I went with him."

Howard blinks at Steve. "You went with him?" 

"Of course. Bucky's my best friend. I wasn't gonna let him go out on his own; we protect each other."

Jesus Christ, a teenage hooker with a heart of gold. How the fuck is this Howard’s life? "And you sort of fell into hooking." 

"I look young." Steve finishes the last piece of toast. "Lots of guys like that. Daddy fantasies."

"You look young because you are young." He tilts his head slightly and gives the boy a hard look. "How old are you? Really?"

"I don't know. I could be sixteen. According to the nuns, they found me playing on the swings of the orphanage playground. They said I didn’t look much older than two or so, but…" Steve shrugs. 

"Right. " Howard sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Generation Lost: that's what the media calls you kids, the ones born after the crisis." 

Steve looks unimpressed by the moniker. And why shouldn't he be, it's not like it matters what some damn reporters call him, not when he's just trying to survive. 

For a moment, Howard understands why Tony tries so hard to do *something* with what he has. "My son's about your age. He thinks that independents like yourself should unionize." 

"Oh." Steve smiles, gets to his feet, and lets the towel drop to the floor. "I don't want to talk about Tony Stark," he says, moving to stand next to Howard. 

He shifts his chair, so he's facing Steve. He looks up at the boy and raises an eyebrow. "What do you want to talk about?"

Steve straddles his thighs; Howard grips the boy's hips. "Let's talk about what I can do to thank you for being so nice to me."

"You could try *saying* thank you." He should probably push Steve off his lap, but it's easier said that done. Steve is warm and slight and looking at him like he's perfect. It's an act, Howard knows that, but it's nice to pretend sometimes.

Steve leans down and licks Howard's mouth. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, huskily; Steve looks at him though lowered lashes.

"Do you want to be my daddy?" 

"Is that what you want? A daddy?" He rubs his thumbs over the crest of Steve's hips. "Someone to take care of you? Spank you when you're a bad boy? Pet you when you've been good? Is that what you want, Stevie?" 

Steve's cheek color, lips parting, his dick slowly hardening, as Howard speaks His reaction surprises Howard. But maybe it shouldn't. Steve's been at this since he was young; that's got to do some pretty twisted things to a person's desires. "Please. Daddy." 

He presses a soft kiss to Steve's cheek and urges him to his feet. "Get a tie from my suitcase and lay back on the bed."

Steve does what he's told, his face red and his dick leaking all over his belly. His eyes are wide, like he's scared, and it takes Howard a moment to realize why. Steve's a street-level whore; he's probably used to quick fucks in alleyways or pay by the hour motels. 

Howard takes the tie from Steve's hands and binds the boy's wrists together. "Is this all right?" he asks, gently rubbing Steve's inner forearm with his thumb.

"Y-Yeah." Steve swallows hard and lifts his wrists over his head when Howard tells him to. "Yeah, I'm fine." He isn't, and Howard should stop, but the kid's dick is still hard and he's breathing fast.

"You're a bad boy, Stevie." He circles Steve's right nipple with his thumb, then flicks it; Steve's eyes flutter shut and he moans. "Spreading your legs for any man who'll pay you. Sucking every dick that's shoved in your face. You're nothing better than a dirty little slut. A filthy whore."

"I—" Steve starts, but Howard shuts him up with a slap across the face. He gasps at that, eyes flying open, his hips jerking up.

"I don't want your excuses." He strokes the red mark on Steve's cheek. "Apologize to me."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Steve whispers. "I didn't mean to—" He cries out as Howard slaps him again, this time on the other cheek.

"I said no excuses." Howard watches as Steve sucks on his bottom lip, eyes wet with tears, looking every inch a vulnerable little boy.

"Sorry, Daddy." Steve's voice wobbles slightly. "Are you gonna punish me?"

"Yes." He kisses Steve's bottom lip and gently probes his asshole; it's slick and open. "You deserve it, don't you, slut?"

Steve moans and pushes back on Howard's fingers. "Please. Anything you want. I'll do anything."

"Have you ever been spanked?" He shoves two fingers into Steve's ass. The keening sound the boy makes goes straight to Howard's dick. "Stevie?"

"The… the nuns." Steve rolls his hips and pants harshly. 

Howard hums softly. "I'm going to spank you. Do you know why, Stevie?" He curls his fingers against Steve's prostate, pulling another cry from the boy.

"Because I'm bad," Steve wails, clenching around Howard's fingers.

"That's right, because you're bad. And I'm going to make you better." Howard settles on the bed, back against the headboard, and he pulls Steve onto his lap, straddling his thighs. "Do you want to be better, Stevie?"

Steve nods; he's trembling, blue eyes wide with fear, his cock bobbing and dripping.

Howard murmurs softly and gently runs his hands over Steve's back in a soothing manner. "It's going to hurt, you're probably going to cry, but it'll feel good too. But if you want me to stop, if you really want me to stop, I want you to say my name. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Steve buries his face against Howard's neck, his bound hands trapped between their bodies. He lets out a helpless moan at the first slap on his ass.

Howard kisses Steve's hair and gives his ass a second smack, then a third. Steve ruts up against him, a shuddering mess, mouth open against Howard's neck, groaning and gasping. Jesus Christ, Howard wants to shove the boy onto the bed and brutally fuck him. He wants—Instead, he begins to spank Steve in earnest, the sound of his palm meeting Steve's ass filling the room. He feels Steve's first sob before he hears it; it's a full-bodied jutter that shakes them both. He doesn't stop, though, just spanks Steve harder until the boy falls apart, crying even as he ruts against Howard's body.

"Please, stop. Please, please, please, I'm sorry," Steve sobs. "Please, Daddy, please!" 

"Not until you come," Howard says. His hand is going numb, but he's sure he can get Steve to come like this. "Not until you make a mess all over me. Come for me, you whore. Come for me!"

Steve cries out, hips bucking, shaking so hard that Howard grabs a hold of him. 

"That's it," he says. "That's perfect." He strokes Steve's hair until the boy slumps against him, sobs petering out. He grips a handful of Steve's hair and pulls his head back. Steve's a mess, but his eyes are soft and dazed: beautiful. "We're almost done, Stevie." 

"'Kay," Steve whispers.

Howard gently maneuvers Steve's onto his knees on the floor and sits in front of him on the bed. He grabs Steve's head and pulls him towards his cock. "Open up." He stares down, watching avidly as Steve takes him in, then fucks the boy's face. It doesn't take him long, just a half dozen thrusts before he's coming into Steve's wet, welcoming mouth. When he pulls out, Steve sits back on his heels and looks up. Steve's mouth is red and shiny-wet. "Don't move." He grabs his cellphone and takes pictures of the boy's messy face. Then he unties Steve's hands, cleans him up, and tucks him into bed.

He doesn't wake Steve until it's almost time for him to head to the airport. He hands Steve his clean clothes and tells him to get dressed.

Steve still looks a little dazed, but he obeys quickly. When he's dressed, he stands in front of Howard and smiles. "Thank you for everything."

"I think that's my line." Howard takes all the cash from his wallet, fans it out to show Steve all six of the hundreds, then folds them up and shoves them into the boy's front pocket.

"That's too much," Steve says, then blushes. "I mean… You…" 

"That should cover the asshole who stiffed you, too." He kisses Steve softly, then holds up his business card. "You need me for anything, you give me a call." Steve doesn’t take the card, so he puts it in Steve's pocket, with the money. "I mean it."

"Why?" Steve frowns up at him; Howard frowns back.

"I don't know." He shrugs. "How do I get a hold of you the next time I'm in town?" 

"Get your picture taken with another half-naked redhead with big… you knows, and maybe I'll show up." Steve grins and heads to the door. "See you around, Mr. Stark."

Howard smiles. "Yeah, see you around, Steve."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard just wants what's best for Tony. Tony thinks he's full of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is not a porny chapter, but there is a little more background. Evidently, this universe is a lot of screwed up than I originally though.

Two weeks after his trip to New York, he gets a call from Peggy. She doesn't call very often, so he takes it even though he's already late for a meeting. 

She doesn't bother greeting him when he picks up the call, she never does, she just says, "Are you shopping around for a sex toy?"

"Excuse me?" He pulls the phone from his ear to stare at it a moment, just to make sure that it's really her number. "Am I what?"

"I received a call a few hours ago from a young man, a very, very young man, named Steve. He was trying to get a hold of you."

Howard straightens in his seat. "Is he all right?"

"I've never bailed a prostitute out of jail before. It's not an experience I wish to duplicate. *And* I had to go to Brooklyn to do it." Her accent grows sharper. "You should have told me you gave that boy your emergency number. I don't like surprises." 

"It's what I pay you for, Peggy," he says, raising his voice slightly.

"No, you don't, jackass." She laughs suddenly. "You're lucky it wasn't Stane who picked up. He would have taken the boy up on his offer for a freebie." 

Howard growls softy. He doesn't like Stane, but the man is good at his job. "Is Steve all right?"

"He's fine. I took care of it. I even bought him lunch and gave him a few dollars."

He sighs and leans back in his chair. "Thank you."

She hums softly. "He's awfully young, Howard."

"Yeah." He smiles at the memory of fucking Steve's mouth. "Do me a favor and keep your eye on him." 

"Fury isn't going to like this."

Howard rolls his eyes. "Fury can go fuck himself. Who I do on my own time is my own business. Besides, if I decide to make the kid my pet, it'll be good for my cover. You know the Maggia get nervous when the people they deal with don't have weaknesses."

"Right." Peggy's quiet for a moment, then she says, "I'll keep an eye on the boy. Give my love to Tony." Before he can say his goodbyes, she hangs up on him. 

He shakes his head and ends the call. Maybe he'll make a special trip next weekend, see how Steve is doing, maybe find out why he ended up in jail. 

***** 

Howard stretches out on his couch, drink in hand, and relaxes after a long day at work. He considers pulling out his pictures of Steve and jerking off to them, but Tony is visiting. He takes a sip of his scotch and closes his eyes, when he hears the pitter-patter of not so small feet headed his way.

"What the hell, Dad! What the hell!"

He sighs and opens his eyes. He does a slight double take. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

Tony pauses, blinks, and stares down at himself. "They're workout clothes."

"Those are not workout clothes. Workout clothes are… sweats, a t-shirt." Howard gesture at the bright red and gold get-up Tony's wearing.

Tony rolls his eyes. "It's a tank top and yoga pants, Dad. Get over it. And stop trying to change the subject! Why did you tell the admissions office at MIT that I wasn't going to school this fall?"

"Because you're not." Howard sits up. "It's too dangerous." 

"It is *not* too dangerous!" Tony flings his arms up in the air. "If you're so worried, hire more bodyguards!"

"Tony, look, I know you want to go to college and I'd *love* for you to go to my alma mater, but things are still so unstable on the east coast and there are plenty of really good schools here in California. Both Berkeley and Stanford are *begging* for you to attend them. Not to mention USC."

"I don't want to go to any of those places, I want to go to MIT!" Tony crosses his arms over his chest and glares.

"Well, that's too bad, because I'm not paying for you to go to MIT." He takes another drink of his scotch.

"That's not fair!" Tony says, his voice trembling.

Howard can feel a headache coming on. "Life isn't fair."

"I'm going to call Mom and have her come pick me up." 

"Your mother is halfway to Maui with Brian." He gets to his feet and puts a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I know you're upset, but I'm just trying to protect you." 

Tony brushes his hand away. "Don't patronize me. If you had another kid to take over Stark Industries, you wouldn't give me the time of day. But you're stuck with me, the kid who doesn't want anything to do with you or your damn company."

"Tony—"

"No matter what you say or what you do, I'm *never* going to take over the Stark Industries, not as long as we're manufacturing death!"

"You're being melodramatic." He doesn't sigh, but it's a close thing. 

"You build bombs and guns and other weapons of mass destruction. It's because of people like you that we're in this mess. You're the problem, Dad, not the solution." Tony lifts his chin and glares at him. 

"It's not that simple." He is trying his hardest not to let his temper get the best of him, but it's not easy. Tony… Tony is difficult on purpose. 

"It is that simple." Tony shakes his head. "But why do I even bother. I know what you think of me, what your friends think of me. Tony Stark, couldn't even tie his own shoes until he was ten years old, can barely read, but hey, at least he's good with numbers. At least those kidnappers didn’t take away *all* his genius."

"Tony," Howard says softly, gently. "Calm down. You're going to have a fit." 

"I like the way you don't bother denying it." Tony is shaking and Howard knows if he doesn't get Tony to relax there's going to be a trip to the hospital in the near future. 

"You are *brilliant*, Tony. If you weren't, colleges wouldn't be clamoring to have you." He rests his hands on Tony's shoulders. "Yes, you still have some developmental issues, but your tutor assures me that it's nothing you can't overcome. Now take a deep breath for me, please? Tony, come on, take a deep breath."

Tony does, then lets it out slowly. 

Howard can feel him relax, minutely. "Why don't you go and do your yoga. We'll talk about all this later, okay?"

"Yeah, right, later." Tony steps away. "I know what that really means." Then he turns and storms out of the room. 

***** 

Howard leaves Tony alone to cool off until dinnertime. Tony is sprawled out on his bed, listening to music when Howard looks in. He gestures for Tony to take off his headphones. "It's time for dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

He sighs and rubs his temples. "You need to eat so you can take your meds. Come on, Tony, I'll let you have a soda." 

"Really?" Tony narrows his eyes. 

"If you promise to clean your plate and take all your meds without a fuss." 

Tony bites his bottom lip and looks thoughtful. "Okay." 

Howard smiles in relief. "Okay."

*****

Dinner is a quiet affair, but then it usually is when it's just the two of them. Howard tries, sometimes, but Tony never gives him an inch or a break. Maybe he doesn't deserve one; Maria certainly thinks he doesn't. 

"So, I was thinking about colleges," Howard says, setting down his fork, and wiping his mouth with a napkin. "And maybe you could go to MIT for graduate school."

"Graduate school!" Tony looks outraged.

"I know it's not what you want, but your mom and I need to think about your safety." He reaches over to touch Tony's hand, but changes his mind a moment later and jerks his hand back. 

"If I wasn’t broken, you'd let me go!"

"Tony, that—" Howard lets out a heavy sigh and leans back in his chair. "You are not broken. You suffered a traumatic brain injury—"

"Ten years ago!"

"And you are still recovering." Howard slams the palms of his hands down on the table; Tony huffs in annoyance. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and says as calmly as he can, "We love you, Tony, and we want what's best for you. And right now, what's best is if you stay close to home for college."

Tony crosses his arms over his chest and looks away.

"Can't we please just have a pleasant visit?" He reaches over and touches Tony's shoulder. "I hardly get to see you."

"Whose fault is that?" Tony asks coldly.

"I'm doing the best I can." 

"Really?" Tony raises an eyebrow. "Because I thought you were doing Cindy and Melanie and Rachel and, oh, what was his name? That's right, Gabriel, but you can call me Big G."

Howard closes his eyes and counts to twenty. Then he opens his eyes and says pleasantly, "Well, you won't have to deal with me for very long. I have to go to New York on Friday. I'll be gone for a week."

"I thought you wanted to spend time with me?" Tony sounds hurt and Howard just doesn't get it. He thought Tony would be glad; all they do is fight.

"You can invite you little hippie friends to stay here with you. Just don't let them spray paint 'pig' on my cars again." 

"Sure. Whatever." Tony gets up and grabs his plate. "I'm gonna go eat dinner in my room."

Howard opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Tony scurries out of the room. He's not sure what he would say anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* Why does it feel like this thing is spiraling out of control? I feel like Howard right now; off-kilter and disgusted with myself. 
> 
> Well, not too disgusted, though. :D

Howard decides to forgo the hotel and stay at his place in Manhattan. His first order of business, once his things are brought into the house, is to order Stane to find Steve. He doesn't have to wait long. Stane is ruthlessly efficient. 

Steve doesn't look too happy when Stane drags him into the living room. He's glaring and trying to jerk out of Stane's grin. "Let go of me, you bastard! You're hurting me!"

"Let him go, Obi," Howard says from his vantage point on the couch. "And thank you. You can go now."

Stane nods, and with a lingering look at Steve, heads out of the room.

Steve stills when he hears Howard, eyes going wide, then he grins. "Mr. Stark. It's you. I didn't expect to see you for another month or so." The boy bounds over to Howard and sits astride his lap. The kiss he's given is sloppy and sweet. 

Howard smiles, returning the kiss with enthusiasm. He opens Steve's jeans and slips a hand in the back to cup his ass. He makes a surprised sound. "You filthy boy! You're all wet."

"Of course I am. I just got finished with a john when your caveman dragged me into his car. I didn't even have time to get cleaned up." 

He wrinkles his nose and pushes Steve off him. "You can take the time now. There's a bathroom up the stairs, second door on your right. Don't bother putting on any clothes after." 

Steve kisses him once more, then races upstairs. 

Howard smiles, shakes his head, and gets to his feet. Maybe he'll have another drink. 

***** 

He's just finished his second glass of scotch when Steve comes downstairs, skin flushed, hair damp. "Very nice," he says, licking his lips. He gently trails his fingers down Steve's shoulder. "I have a gift for you. I want you to wear it when you're with me."

"Okay." Steve bites his bottom lip and looks at him expectantly.

He takes the collar from his pocket and dangles it in front of Steve's gaze. "What do you think?" he asks, carefully watching Steve's reaction. 

Steve's cheeks flush a brilliant shade of red and he lifts his chin. "Put it on me, please, Daddy." 

"Such a good boy." Howard buckles the collar around Steve's neck, then presses a kiss to his jaw. He takes a step back a moment later, when he hears the clack of Peggy's high heels.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Peggy walks over to them and turns a critical eye towards Steve. 

The boy's eyes widen in surprise and he blushes all over. "M-Ms. Carter."

"Why hello, Steven," she purrs, her gaze traveling over his naked body, a small smirk on her face.

Steve gasps softly, his dick hardening and his nipples pebbling. He looks like he wants to cover himself, but he's caught in her trap. 

She presses two fingers under his chin and tips his head back. "My, what a lovely collar."

"Thank you," he says, trembling.

"It looks very sturdy." Peggy hooks a finger into the o-ring of the collar and tugs up on it, so that Steve has to stand on his tiptoes or he'll choke.

Steve's lips part and he looks dazed; it's one of the most erotic things Howard has seen in a long time. 

"He likes you, Peggy." Howard trails his fingers down Steve's spine; the boy moans, his dick bobbing in the air.

"I think you're right." She caresses Steve's face with her free hand. "Do you like me, Steven? Would you like to lick my pussy?"

Steve whimpers. "Please?"

"I wouldn't mind seeing that, Peggy." She's gorgeous and he'd love to see her aroused.

"Maybe you could fuck him while I keep this end busy." Peggy brushes her mouth against Steve's, flicking her tongue against his lips. "Soon, my sweet boy." She slides her hand down Steve's face, his chest, his belly, brushing the head of his dick.

Steve cries out, knees buckling as he comes. Howard has to grab him around the waist to keep him from collapsing onto the floor.

Peggy laughs. "Delightful. It's a good thing you snatched him up, Howard, or I might have."

"Lucky me." Howard kisses Steve's temple. "Was there something you needed from me?"

"Oh, yes. Fury wants to talk to you when you have a moment." She flashes a coy smile at Steve. "I'll see you later, Steven."

"G-Goodbye, Ms. Carter." 

"You've got good taste, Stevie. Peggy's one in a million." 

Steve hums softly and leans back against Howard's chest. "So are you, Daddy." 

"Flatterer." Howard nuzzles Steve's neck. "I want to come in that dirty little hole of yours, baby. You gonna let me do that?"

"Can we do it in a bed, Daddy? I like doing it in beds the best." 

Howard takes a good look at Steve; the kid looks tired. He's probably been working all day. "We can do that. Come on, let me show you my bedroom." 

*****

The first thing Steve does is spread out on the bed, stretching his arms and legs as far as he can, and groan. "Oh, it's so big."

"I've heard that one before," he says and Steve blushes. God, Howard loves making the boy blush. He kicks off his shoes, undresses, and nudges Steve over enough that he can stretch out on the bed, too. "Your own bed's uncomfortable?"

"Don't have a bed." Steve rolls over and curls up against Howard's chest. "Me and Bucky share space with six other people. We're lucky if one of us gets the couch." 

Howard trails his fingers down Steve's back and hums softly. "Is it space or money that's an issue?"

"Both." Steve shrugs. "There's not a lot of reconstruction going on in Brooklyn, even now, and the Maggia takes a big cut of what I make. You know, for protection."

"From them, you mean?" Howard tenses slightly. He'd love to kill every last one of those bastards, but who knows what would take their place.

"And other gangs and the police. Especially the police." Steve throws his leg over Howard's hip and arches against him. 

"They're not doing a very good job if my people have to bail you out of jail."

Steve sighs and pulls back just enough to look Howard in the eyes. "That was my fault. The cops were harassing a friend of mine and I got in the middle." 

"He's not paying protection money?"

Steve chuckles softly and shakes his head. "He's not from Brooklyn, he's from Harlem."

"There isn't a Harlem, anymore," he says and Steve gives him such a look of disgust that Howard actually jerks back.

"Try telling that to people from Harlem."

"You know what I mean." Howard shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat.

"According to Sam, plenty of people from the old neighborhood managed to escape the purges. It's not just rich Manhattanites that live within the security walls." 

Howard doesn't really have anything constructive say to that, so he doesn’t respond to it. Instead, he clears his throat and says, "He's got papers to travel out of the secure areas? That costs money."

"Religious groups are allowed out of the security wall to see to their congregations. Sam's dad is a minister. They whole family visits Brooklyn regularly and helps out where they can." Steve bites his lower lip and looks down. "I first met Sam when I lived at the orphanage. We're friends and… and he's helped a lot of people. So I helped him."

"I'm surprised the cops were harassing him."

Steve rolls his eyes. "They always do. The cops don't want us thinking that we deserve to be treated like people or anything."

"You sound like Tony," he says softly.

Steve's posture immediately changes: the tension leaves his body, his thighs spread, and the expression on his face softens. "Sorry. You get me going and suddenly I'm babbling nonsense."

"Is that what it is?" He takes in Steve's expression: the panicked look in his eyes and the trembling of his lips. He reaches over and gently brushes his fingers against Steve's cheek. There are dark circles under Steve's eyes and his skin is pale. "You look tired. Maybe you should take a nap."

"No," Steve says, shaking his head. "I’m fine. Daddy, really, I'm good."

The boy's afraid he's lost his meal ticket; Howard's stomach churns with disgust. Jesus Christ, what the hell is he doing? He swallows hard. "I know you're good. But I want you to take a nap, Stevie."

Steve sucks on his bottom lip and looks thoughtful. "Will you take a nap with me?" He blinks his eyes rapidly, like he's trying to stave off tears. "Please… Howard?"

Fuck! Fuck this kid. Just… "Yeah. All right." He settles back more comfortably on the bed and pulls Steve against his chest. He's not sure what the fuck he's doing anymore. He just knows that for some reason it feels like he's been bumped out of orbit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard has a business deal for Steve. Also, sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this story is so screwed up. I sort of really love it. Next chapter is gonna be *real* good. I'm gonna love writing it.

Howard wakes to Steve's wet, inviting mouth sucking on his dick. He fists his sheets because otherwise he's going to grab Steve's head and shove himself as far down Steve's throat as he can. "I want to come on your face," he says.

And Steve's a great fucking whore because he pulls off Howard's dick with an audible pop and jerks him hard and fast. "Do it, Daddy. Make me dirty. Come all over my face." 

He curses, jerks his hips, his come splattering across Steve's mouth and chin. He wants to take a picture of Steve looking like a debauched angel. It's obscene, but Steve doesn't seem to care. He reaches over and rubs his fingers through the mess. "What time is it?"

Steve licks at his fingers. "A little before six."

Howard hums softly and curls his fingers against Steve's sweet tongue. "We should go down for dinner."

"Oh." Steve pulls away. "Um, actually, I… I should get back soon. Bucky gets twitchy if I'm not home by curfew."

Howard doesn't blame Bucky one bit. He's heard all the horror stories, too. And they're probably true in the non-secure areas. "I'm here for the week. Why don't you stay with me?"

"Stay with you?" Steve's voice goes squeaky and he clears his throat. "That's.. The whole time?"

"I'll give you ten thousand," he says, wanting to see how Steve will react.

"Ten—" Steve swallows hard and his face goes red. 

"That's right. I'll give you ten thousand dollars to stay here and be my boy." Steve's dick twitches and Howard isn’t sure if it's because of the money or if Steve really is that screwed up. 

"That's too much money." Steve rests his hands on Howard's thighs and wiggles like he can't keep still.

"You're right, it is. It's way too much money to spend on a filthy little whore like you." 

Steve's eyes flutter shut and he rocks his hips.

"I'm going to do all sorts of nasty things to you, Stevie. Things that'll shame even a slut like you." Steve's lips part and he smiles. "What does ten thousand get me? Tell me what it gets me, Stevie?"

"Anything." Steve lets out a soft whine. "Anything you want."

"And that makes you so hot, doesn't it?"

Steve nods frantically, but he doesn't touch his dick, he doesn’t try to finger himself; he's such a good boy. 

Howard licks his lips, his heart pounding in his chest. Steve looks young and needy and vulnerable. He shouldn’t want to exploit that. He shouldn’t want to bruise Steve's pale thighs and leave bite marks around his nipples and down his neck, he shouldn’t want to hurt the boy until he can't leave. He brings his hand up and slaps Steve's dick.

Steve cries out, eyes widening in surprise, his dick spurting precome onto Howard's hand.

"You're disgusting." Howard says hoarsely. "I bet you'll come from this. You'll come from my slapping your dick."

"Please?" Steve curls his fingers into a fist and bites his lower lip. "I don't… I can't… It feels so good," he wails.

Fuck, this kid. Howard slaps Steve's dick again and again and again. And the kid loves it, he's squirming and panting and moaning like the whore that he is. "That's it, Stevie. That's so good, isn't it? Come for me now. Show Daddy how much you like what he does to you."

Steve's next gasp catches in his throat. He arches his body, and shudders as he comes all over Howard's belly. 

Howard murmurs softly and pulls Steve against his chest. "Good boy," he says, running his hand through Steve's hair. "You're such a good boy for Daddy. You're well worth the ten thousand I'm going to spend on you."

"F-Five," Steve murmurs. "Just give Bucky five. Th' rest is mine."

"Is it now?" Howard laughs softly. "And what are you going to do with your cut?"

"Put it in the bank." Steve hums and kisses Howard's throat. "Can I use your phone to call Bucky?"

"Of course." He gestures to the phone. "Then we should get cleaned up for dinner."

*****

Howard watches in awe as Steve practically eats his weight in spaghetti and meatballs. "Where the hell do you pack it all in?"

Steve shrugs and wipes his mouth. "This is really good! It's not mushy or metallic tasting at all! I can't believe you eat like this all the time."

"Some of us are just lucky, I guess." Howard takes a sip of wine. "Save room for dessert. I think Jarvis made chocolate cake."

"Ch-Chocolate?" Steve stills, his eyes widening. "Real chocolate?"

"You're had real chocolate before?" he asks.

"Once." Steve is practically vibrating with excitement. "It was very, very good." 

He laughs and strokes Steve's face. "Yeah, Tony's a big fan, too. I'll have to take back some of Jarvis's chocolate chip cookies for him." 

"I'm sure he'll like that." Steve nuzzles his hand. "You're a good dad." 

"I'm really not," he says softly. 

"Well, I think you're amazing."

"Says the kid I'm paying ten thousand for." He gasps when Steve nips his fingers. 

Steve grins. "You're renting, not buying." 

"Fine. Says the kid I'm renting for ten thousand dollars. Now come here and give me a kiss." 

"Yes, Daddy." 

***** 

Howard should have expected it, but he's still surprised when he gets the phone call. He and Steve are in bed, napping, when this cell phone rings. He doesn't check to see who's calling; no one calls his cell unless it's an emergency. 

"What is it?" he slurs; Steve grumbles and sighs.

"Why the fuck is Tony in New York?" asks Fury.

"What?" He pushes Steve away and sits up. "What the hell are you talking about, Nick? Tony's in Malibu." 

"Tony's at a goddamn airstrip in New York, Howard. I'm on my way to pick him up now." 

Howard runs his fingers through his hair. His heart is pounding and he feels sick to his stomach. "He's supposed to be in Malibu."

"Well, he's not. I'll call you when I've retrieved him." With that, Nick hangs up.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" He makes to throw his cell, but Steve grabs his wrist and takes it from him.

"You might need it later." Steve looks warm and rumpled and Howard wants to fuck him again. "Should I get dressed and get out?"

"What?"

"There's something going on with Tony, right? Do you want me to go? I can go."

Howard shakes his head. "No… yes… No." He takes a deep breath. "No. No, just… stay upstairs. Tony's not staying long. As soon as he gets here, I'm going to yell at him and send him back to California." 

"If you're sure," Steve says.

"I'm sure." He kisses Steve. "I've got you for the whole week. And I plan on taking advantage of all that time. I'm a man who always gets his money's worth." 

"Good." Steve kisses back. "Because I plan on giving it to you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard is a scary asshole to everybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard, what are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
> 
> Also, Floopy used to be red, but repeated washings has made him pink. My partner in crime AnonEhouse (feng-shui-house on DW) wants to take the blame for Floopy, but I wrote him in of my own free will. And I ain't ashamed.

"Do you realize the danger you've put yourself in? That you've put your friends in?" Howard paces in front of Tony, who is sitting in a chair, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Nick is leaning up against the wall of the living room, watching them, and Howard spares him a glance. "New York is *not* California, Tony! Your plane could have been shot down or hijacked. You could have been kidnapped!"

"We were perfectly safe! The Avengers have done this more than a dozen times!" 

He stops pacing to stare at Tony. "The *what?"

"The Avengers, Dad." Tony rolls his eyes and sighs. "I told you about them a million times." 

"Your little social justice group? The ones who spray painted my cars?" He frowns: out of the corner of his eye, he can see Nick typing away on his cellphone "They're the ones who convinced you—"

"They didn’t convince me of anything!" Tony jumps to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"You're fifteen years old! You can barely wipe your own ass." Howard bites off the rest of his comment; Tony's face twists in anger and shame. "Tony, it's a common phrase. I didn't mean it—I would never—"

"Whatever." Tony turns away, his shoulders drooping. "Like you know what I can and can't do anyway. I'd like to go to my room now."

"You're not going anywhere but back to the airstrip. You're on the next fight home, buddy!"

"Impossible," Nick says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "The military just grounded all civilian flights for the next forty-eight hours. There's trouble in the Midwest." 

"There's always fucking trouble in the Midwest." Howard fights the urge to throw something. He turns to Tony and points at him. "You are not leaving this house. I don't care if it's on goddamn fire. Do you hear me?"

"That's not fair!"

"Well, how else am I gonna ruin your life."

Tony glares at him. "I hate you!"

"So it's Tuesday." He gestures to the staircase. "Bedrooms are upstairs. Any room but the third one on the left; that's mine."

He waits until Tony is halfway up the stairs before he turns to Nick. "The Avengers? Who the fuck are they?"

Nick pushes off the wall and shrugs. "They're harmless. Howard. Just a bunch of trust fund babies pretending that they can change the world."

"They got him here, Nick. I don't call that harmless." He's going to dismantle that little group if it's the last thing he does. 

"Yeah, well, maybe if you had stayed in California like you were supposed to, Tony wouldn't have had a chance to run off." Nick sneers. "Where is your little boy toy anyway?"

"Steve's up—fuck!" Howard rushes upstairs, but he's not fast enough. Steve is standing in the middle of the hallway, wearing nothing but one of Howard's button downs, looking stunned. "Tony?"

Steve swallows hard and points to the end of the hall. "He was really upset."

"Go to the room and stay there until I say you can leave." He doesn't wait to see if he's obeyed. He walks over to the last door and gives a cursory knock before opening it and walking in. 

Tony is stilling on the bed, back against the headboard, that damn pink nightmare of a stuffed animal in his lap. 

"I can't believe you still have that fucking bunny." He tries to take it away, but Tony hugs it to his chest. "It's practically falling apart." 

"You and Mom are the ones who kept washing him." 

He sits down on the bed. "You kept sucking on its damn ears. It started to smell after awhile." 

"Floopy made me feel safe," Tony says softly; Howard knows it still does. 

"You're not a baby anymore."

Tony laughs and shakes his head. "You're giving me mixed messages here, Dad. On one hand, I'm not old enough to go off to the college I want, or go on trips with my friends. On the other hand, I'm old enough to find myself a sugar daddy and fuck him."

"He's not—"

"No, I get it. I really get it," Tony says quickly. "He's a prostitute. He showed me his license and everything. He's legal according to the New York licensing board. And we know how much that's worth, don't we, Dad?"

Howard sighs. "Look—" 

"I thought you were here for work!" Tony's voice quavers. "I thought it was important! But all you're really doing here is fucking some underage whore! I guess I should count myself lucky you didn't decide it was me you wanted to screw!"

He doesn't consciously do it, but when Tony says those words, something inside of him snaps. He reaches out and slaps Tony before he can stop himself.

Tony stares at him, eyes wide with shock.

"Tony," he says in surprise. "Tony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't—"

"Get out, Dad. Get out, get out, get out!"

Howard scrambles to his feet.

"Get the fuck out!" Tony screams.

He's out the door before Tony finishes the sentence. He heads back downstairs where Nick is waiting with a glass of scotch. He takes the glass and drains it; his hands are shaking. "I want to read the file on these Avengers."

"All right. I'll have someone send it to you." 

"I've got to call, Maria." He rubs his face. "She's going to cut off my balls and shove them down my throat." 

Nick shrugs. "Wait until Peggy finds out." 

"Fuck," he groans and collapses onto the couch. "Shoot me now, please?" 

Nick pats him on the shoulder and declines, the traitor.

***** 

Howard wakes with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he tries to throw off the feeling of helplessness and fear the nightmares always bring with them. He turns on the bedside lamp and wipes his mouth with back of his hand. He frowns; something is wrong. It takes him a moment to realize Steve isn't in bed with him. 

He considers trying to get back to sleep, but decides that's probably a bad idea. He gets out of bed, throws on a robe, and goes in search of Steve. 

Steve isn't in the kitchen or the den or the living room and the alarm didn't go off, so he didn't leave the house. Howard wonders if maybe Steve is in one of the other bedrooms.

He's just about to check on the third bedroom, when he hears laughter from Tony's room, and it's not Tony's. He hurries over to Tony's door and slowly opens it. Both Steve and Tony are on the bed, giggling, and eating cookies. They look comfortable and happy and if Howard were a stranger, he'd think they were lovers. He bites back his first response, which is to ask what the fuck is going on. 

"There you are, Steve," he says. "I was wondering where you'd gone."

"Oh, sorry." Steve dusts the crumbs off his hands. "I got hungry and went to get a snack. Tony was already raiding the cookie jar."

Tony scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. "That okay with you, Dad?"

"Of course it is, but it's late."

"Your dad's right, Tony." Steve climbs out of bed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night."

"Good night, Steve." Tony smiles at Steve, then levels Howard with a flat stare.

Howard checks a sigh and firmly closes the door when Steve leaves the room. He doesn’t say anything, not one thing, until they're both back in the bedroom. Then he grabs Steve by the arms and shoves the boy up against the way. "What the fuck were you doing?"

Steve cries out sharply. "What—Ow, you're hurting me!"

"Why were you in Tony's room?" He tightens his grip and Steve whimpers.

"We were talking. Please, stop! Howard, please!" When he doesn't, Steve kicks him hard in the shins.

"Fuck!" He lets Steve go and stumbles back. "Tony's off limits! You stay the fuck away from him, do you understand me?"

Steve rubs his arms and gives Howard a guarded look. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good. Now get back into bed."

"Okay," Steve says softly. His gaze never leaves Howard as he crawls into bed. 

Howard can see that he's scared and hurt. He sighs. "Tony's important to me. He's the most important thing to me. I know I’m a little overprotective, but he's vulnerable and he doesn’t know it."

"I get it." Steve pulls the covers up to his chin.

"I'm sorry." He sits on the bed and strokes Steve's hair. "I seem to be hurting everybody today."

Steve doesn’t reply, but Howard doesn't really expect him to.


	6. Interlude: Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What were Steve and Tony talking about when Howard interrupted them in the previous chapter? Find out here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely partner-in-crime AnonEhouse drew the wonderful picture of Floopy in this fic. If you would like to comment or kudos her fic, and I highly encourage you to, you can go [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/727501).

Steve is hungry. That's nothing new, he's always hungry, he's used to it. What's different is that he can go downstairs and get a snack. He fights back the urge to laugh and slips out of bed. Howard mumbles, but Steve isn't worried. He isn’t doing anything wrong. He puts on a pair of underwear and one of Howard's shirts, and heads downstairs to the kitchen. Mr. Jarvis said that if he got hungry, he could have some cookies.

The light is on in the kitchen, and it takes his eyes a moment to adjust, that's why he doesn't see Tony right away. When he does, he stops and stands there, stupidly, wishing he'd put on more clothes. 

"Hi," he says, trying to tug down Howard's shirt. Tony stares at him, but doesn't respond. He gestures to the plate of cookies and glass of milk in front of Tony. "Mind if I join you?"

"Oh, please do," Tony says snottily, after a moment. "Having milk and cookies with my dad's underage boyfriend won't be awkward at all."

Steve takes a glass out of the cupboard and pours himself some milk. Then he settles, carefully, because Howard used him pretty roughly, on one of the breakfast bar stools. "I'm not his boyfriend."

"I was trying to be nice." Tony pushes the plate his way and Steve takes a cookie.

"You don't have to be nice to me." Steve gets it; it's weird. He takes a bite of the cookie and hums with pleasure. Tony is staring at him and it makes him a bit uncomfortable. "You can ask me questions if you want. I don't mind."

"How long have you been a… " Tony gestures to him. "A sex worker?"

Steve grins at him, oddly pleased by the terminology. "A couple of years. I kinda fell into it, you know? Before that, me and Bucky were picking pockets. Then one day, one of our marks offers Bucky twenty bucks for me." 

"Bucky?"

"My pimp. And my best friend. These cookies are really good." Not that Steve has tasted many cookies. 

"Jarvis is the best." Tony finishes his milk and wipes his mouth. "Do you like being a sex worker?"

Steve shrugs and finishes his cookie. "I like eating. I like having a place to sleep when it's raining or snowing outside."

"Does he hurt you?" Tony asks softly.

"Bucky's my best friend. He'd never hurt me." Tony seems to be done eating, so Steve happily works his way through the cookies on the plate.

Tony's face turns red. "I meant my dad."

"Oh," he says around a mouthful of cookie. He drinks some milk and clears his throat. He thinks of all the things he could say, and settles on, "Howard's nice to me."

"Right." Tony snorts, then gives Steve a contemplative look. "How are you at Mario Kart?"

Steve frowns. "What's Mario Kart?"

Tony giggles and claps his hands together. "Oh man, I was hoping you'd say that. Grab your milk and cookies, Stevie-boy. I'm gonna take you for the ride of your life."

He's pretty sure that Tony isn't propositioning him, but just in case… "I don't double up on clients." 

"Gross! You're doing my dad!" Tony grimaces. "Besides, I'm strictly into girls."

"Okay." Steve grabs his snack and follows Tony upstairs. When they get to the room, he' s a bit disappointed. Everyone knows that Tony's a tech wizard; he was expecting a room with lots of gadgets and computers. It must show on his face because Tony chuckles softly.

"Yeah, it's pretty blah, isn't it? I'm glad I brought my Wii with me, otherwise I'd be bored out of my mind." Tony sprawls on top of the bed with a groan. 

"Howard doesn’t let you decorate your own room?" Steve sets the plate and glass down, then sits on the bed.

"Sure, but I was never supposed to come here. I'm supposed to stay in California, like a good boy." Tony makes a face. "I've only ever seen pictures of this place. You know, pre-crisis."

Steve hums softly and sees a pink scrap of fabric peeking out from the pillows. Without thinking about it, he grabs the fabric and tugs. Oh, it's a stuffed toy.

[](http://www.flickr.com/photos/eclectic_house/8571745231/)

 

"Hey!" Tony snatches the toy away and hugs it to his chest. "What do you think you're doing? You don't just grab stuff that's not yours!"

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" Steve holds his hands out and tries to look apologetic. Tony looks back, his face flushed, his chin lifted in defiance. Steve knows that look, he's given it plenty of times. "What's his name? Did your mom give him to you?"

"Floopy." Tony gives him a wary look. "My godmother Peggy gave him to me." 

"Peggy? Ms. Carter?" Steve feels himself go hot all over. He doesn’t know why she makes him feel this way, but she does. He'd pay *her* to have sex.

"Yeah."

"Floopy looks old," he says.

Tony gently strokes the bunny's ripped and threadbare ears. "I've had him since I was five. Peggy got him for me when I was in the hospital." 

Steve swallows hard. "I've never had a stuffed animal."

"Dad thinks I should get rid of him. He says I'm not a baby anymore."

"That's silly. Why should you give up something that makes you happy? Especially when it’s not hurting anyone." He wonders if he ever had a stuffed animal like that before his parents gave him up. 

"That's what I think, too." Tony lovingly sets the bunny down on the pillows. "I don’t care what Dad thinks. I don’t care what anyone thinks!"

"Good," he says and means it. He likes Tony for some reason, he's not sure why. "You shouldn't."

Tony bites his lower lip and stares at Steve. "Has he told you that he loves you?"

"No." For some reason that makes Steve's face go hot and he knows he's blushing. "It's not like that."

"Don't ever tell him that you love him. Better yet, don't fall for him at all." Tony takes a deep breath. "He can't stand messes. Not messy situations or messy people. That's why he was never around when I was in the hospital. That's why he didn't fight my mom when she asked for full custody of me. That's why he's here with you when he should have been spending time with me in California. Don't be messy, Steve, or he'll drop you." 

Steve takes in Tony's words and nods his thanks. "Are you going to show me Mario Kart?" Whatever that is.

Tony grins, suddenly. "Sure. Although, I gotta say, playing video games with the sex worker my dad hired has got to be the weirdest thing I've ever done."

"I once had a john pay me to dress up like a schoolgirl from some anime cartoon," he says, then freezes in horror. Why did he say that?

Tony, instead of looking at him in disgust, laughs. "No way!"

"Yeah, he was weird." Steve smiles tentatively. 

"Well, you are sort of pretty," Tony says, tilting his head.

"Hey! I am not!"

"Don't feel bad. I'm pretty, too." Tony flutters his eyelashes and twirls his hair with a finger; he looks ridiculous and Steve laughs. "I'm taking that as agreement." 

"You're crazy." He shakes his head, chuckling.

"Nah, just brain damaged." Tony pokes Steve's side until he giggles. "Let me show you how to lose at Mario Kart."

"If that's all you're used to."

"Ooh, I see." Tony waggles his eyebrows. "The snark is on now, Steve. And you're gonna lose!"

This is so utterly ridiculous that Steve finds himself laughing again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is bruised and Tony isn't giving up his new bestie.

There are bruises on Steve's upper arms, bruises that he made last night. He comes up behind the boy, runs his hands over the marred skin, and kisses Steve's bare shoulder. "Do they hurt?"

"They're fine," Steve says, leaning back against Howard's chest.

"I'm sorry." He sighs, the bruises are a deep purple; they must hurt. "I didn't mean it."

Steve tilts his head back to look at Howard and smiles. "I've had a lot worse."

"That doesn't make me feel better." He kisses Steve hard, possessive. "No one should hurt you."

Steve laughs and it's just a little bit bitter, a little bit mocking. "You gonna take me away from all this, Howard? You gonna take care of me?"

"You think I won't?" He takes a step back away from Steve and the boy stumbles a bit.

"I think you can," Steve says, turning to face him. 

It isn't what Howard asked, but he has a feeling that pushing the issue won't do any good. "I've got some work to do this morning. You're free to do whatever you like."

"Sure." Steve smirks and puts on one of Howard's shirts. "Thank you. Daddy." 

***** 

Howard is in the middle of reading a very complex contract when Tony comes barging into the den, throwing the door open so it bangs against the wall. Tony stalks over to the desk and crosses his arms over his chest, and waits.

He lets the boy stew for a few minutes, before he looks up, eyebrow raised. "Yes, Tony? Can I help you with something?"

"Let Steve play with me," Tony says, bracing his hands on the desk and leaning forward.

"I'm sorry." He blinks rapidly. "What?"

"I know you said something to him. Told him to stay away from me, told him if he didn't that you'd send him away."

Howard's temper reared its head. "Is that what *he* told you?"

"No!" Tony pushes off the desk and throws his hands in the air. "I figured it out all by myself. Because I'm not stupid! We had fun last night: we played video games and talked and ate. And now he won't even be in the same room with me for longer than ten seconds!"

Howard takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Tony, he's a whore. And whores pretend." Tony gasps and for a second looks like he's just been slapped. Shit, Howard shouldn't have said it like that. "All I mean is—"

"I don't care," Tony says. "I don't think he was, but even so, I don't care." Howard opens his mouth to reply, but Tony talks quickly. "Are you gonna let my friends visit? The ones I came with, I mean? Are you gonna let them hang out with me?"

"No." He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "But I don't think Steve is a good substitute. You'll be home in a few days, Tony. You can hang out with your friends then"

Tony snorts. "You really don't know shit about my life, do you? My friends are here, Dad. All five of them."

"You have more friends than that." He rolls his eyes.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? I hate to break it to you, but no one wants to hang out with a spaz."

"Tony!" he says, tone sharp. 

"C'mon! You wouldn't hang out with me if you didn't have to. It's why you're here, isn't it? Why would anyone be any different?" Tony crosses his arms over his chest and looks away. "The seizures scare people. And if they're not scared away, they're disgusted. No one wants to see someone piss themselves. At least Steve will have to stick around after."

Howard doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't know the words to make Tony feel better and he can't refute them because they are very likely true. 

"Please, Dad." Tony gives him a pleading look. 

He lets out a little huff. "This doesn’t get back to your mom."

"I swear." Tony grins and says, loudly, "Steve! Hey, Steve!"

Steve peeks into the room, takes a look at Howard. The boy looks worried and very, very nervous. "Um, yes?"

Howard rolls his eyes. "Come here." Steve complies quickly. "I take it that you heard everything?"

"Yes, sir." Steve hunches his shoulders.

He forces himself to smile; both Steve and Tony look a little alarmed so he stops a moment later. "Have fun."

"See, I told you." Tony beams at Steve. "It'll be great, you'll see. I'll even let you borrow one of my swim suits." 

Swim— "No!" Howard is out of his chair a second later. Steve gives a startled gasp, but Tony only looks annoyed. 

"Really? Still?" Tony shakes his head. 

"You are not getting into that pool," he says, clenching his hands so hard that they ache.

"Um, yes, I am," Tony says. "I know you're still traumatized by the whole… drowning thing."

"The whole *drowning* thing?" Howard's voice rises to something that is very close to a shriek. "You mean when I found you face down in a tub of water where you kidnappers had left you? Where I found you not breathing? Where I found you—"

"And I get that it was horrible for you, Dad. I get it." Tony gestures for him to calm down. "But I don’t even *remember* the kidnapping. I don’t remember any of it. So it's your trauma, not mine. And I hate to tell you, but Mom let me take swimming lessons when I was ten. I'm like a fucking fish when I'm in the water."

Howard is so angry that he can't speak.

"Wow, that's… that's impressive color you're turning there." Tony smirks at him and nudges Steve in the ribs. "Wouldn't you say?"

"I think I'm going to go wait for you in the living room," Steve says and quickly leaves. 

"Coward!" Tony calls out to him, then faces Howard again. "Don't make your issues mine." 

He closes his eyes and counts to fifty. When he opens his eyes again, Tony gives him a flat stare. "I'm just trying to protect you."

"I don’t want you to protect me. I don’t need it." Tony makes a dismissive sound. "Now I'm going swimming with my new best friend. Later, Dad."

Howard waits until Tony leaves, then goes to pour himself a drink. His hands shake, but by the fourth glass of whiskey, it doesn't matter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has sharp teeth, too.

Steve is sitting on the bed, naked, when Howard walks into the room. He hasn't seen the boy since the conversation with Tony earlier. He doesn't say anything, just kicks off his shoes and changes into his pajamas. 

"I wasn't pretending," Steve says, rising from the bed and crossing his arms over his chest. "It was mean of you to say that I was. Tony didn't deserve that."

"What?" Howard raises an eyebrow. "You think you're an expert on my son?"

"All I'm saying is that he's nice. He's a good person, he wants to do the right thing, he wants to change the world for the better. Why wouldn't I like someone like that?" Steve lifts his chin and stares at Howard defiantly. "He could have treated me like crap. Most people do when they find out I'm a sex worker. But he didn't." Steve bites his lower lip. "I don't got a lot of friends either."

"You don't get to make friends with him. That's not for you to decide."

"No. It's not for *you* to decide." Steve swallows hard. "You can throw me out on my ass. You can have the cops lock me up. You could do a lot of things to me and I couldn’t stop you. But you don't get to decide who my friends are. Your money doesn't give you that right."

Howard stares at Steve a moment, then laughs softly. He slowly moves toward Steve. "You know, I think I've had my fill of little boys mouthing off to me today."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Steve's hands clench and Howard can tell that he's scared.

Howard grabs Steve by the hair and jerks him forward; the boy cries out. "If you hurt my son, they won't find your body. Got it?"

"Yes!" Steve grimaces, his eyes filling with tears. When Howard lets him go, he stumbles away. "You don't have to be so rough!"

Fuck, Steve's right. He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. When it comes to Tony I… I'm a little overprotective."

Steve snorts and rubs his head. "I'm not gonna hurt him."

"Come here." Steve gives him a wary look, but moves close enough that Howard can pull him close. Gently this time. "I'm sorry." Howard presses a kiss to Steve's mouth. 

"I don't like it when you're rough, Daddy," Steve whispers.

"I know." He rubs his thumb along Steve's lower lip and nuzzles along his jaw. "But you forgive me, don't you?"

"Yes." Steve's breath hitches in his throat. "You gonna fuck me, Daddy? You gonna make me feel good?"

"Is that what you want, Stevie? You want my cock up your ass?"

Steve nods and buries his face against Howard's chest. "You said you'd take care of me. Spank me when I was bad and pet me when I was good. But all you do is hurt me." The boy's voice trembles and Howard feels as stab of guilt. It's a game, of course it's a game, but it's a good one. And kid or not, Steve's goddamn pro. Steve seals the deal by pulling back slightly and looking up; his lashes are wet.

Howard would laugh if it weren't so fucking perfect. "And what do you deserve right now, huh?"

Steve pouts. "You hurt me. I think I deserve something nice. Don't you? I think you should pet me all over."

"Of course you do." Howard lowers his mouth and kisses Steve hard. "Get into bed."

A small smile curves Steve's lips as he hastens to obey. 

***** 

Steve is sweaty and lax, bruises pepper his torso, and his cheeks are flushed. Howard leans down and presses a kiss to one peaked nipple, just to hear the boy sigh sweetly.

"I found him," he says, surprising himself with the confession. 

Steve doesn't pretend to misunderstand. "That must have been scary." 

Howard fights back a laugh. "I wasn't supposed to go in, just in case he was already dead. The cops didn't want to have to deal with a grieving parent. But I went in anyway. I found him face down in a tub of water." Tony hadn't been breathing and his heart had stopped. "He was dead. Clinically speaking." He remembers laying Tony's tiny, broken body on the floor and breathing into his mouth. He remembers begging to a god he didn't believe in. He remembers that Tony's lips were blue. Blue, blue, blue. 

"He's alive now." Steve kisses him softly on the mouth. "He's breathing and living and yelling at you a lot."

He allows himself to smile at that. He reaches out and gently brushes his thumb against he bruises on Steve's neck. "I failed him, Steve. I won't do that again. I won't fail him."

"I know you won't." Steve strokes Howard's forearm. "Tony's lucky. I wish I had someone—" The boy presses his lips together and slides his gaze away.

"Bucky wouldn't kill for you?" Steve doesn’t answer, but then Howard supposes it's an unfair question. "Call me daddy."

Steve looks at him, startled. "Daddy." 

"Do you want me to kill all the bad men who have hurt you, Stevie?" He presses his thumb against Steve's throat, just a little.

The boy swallows hard. "Where would you start?" 

"Anywhere you want me to," he says and Steve's eyes go dark. "Give me a name."

"I don’t want you to kill anyone." Steve's mouth softens and he gasps; Howard drops his hand from Steve's throat. "There are worse things than dying."

Howard grins; smart boy. "I can be very creative."

"I know." Steve put his arms around Howard and lowers his lashes. "You take care of your boys, Daddy."

"Is that why you take care of me so well?"

"Someone has to, right?"

"You're a dangerous boy. Has anyone ever told you that?" He licks Steve's mouth open.

"I just want to be happy," Steve says. "I just want everyone to be happy. How is that dangerous?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard has a meeting with a representative from the Maggia. He brings Steve along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I did a thing! Yay for me! I did a thing! Hopefully, I will do more things soon. :D

Fury likes keeping people on their toes and Howard is no exception. So he's not surprised when Fury calls him and tells him that he's got a meeting with a representative with the Maggia in three hours. Instead, he calls in Peggy, Stane, and Jarvis and gives them their assignments. Peggy and Stane are with him. Jarvis is to keep a close eye on Tony.

"Do whatever you have to, just keep him safe. And if something happens to me, get him back to Malibu and his mother," he says.

Jarvis nods and murmurs a 'yes sir.'

"What about Steve?" Peggy asks suddenly. 

Howard leans back in his chair and lets out a sigh. "He's coming with me."

Peggy frowns at him. "Is that wise?"

"Probably not. But it might put Manfredi at ease if I bring in my boy toy." He didn't like it any more than Peggy did, but honestly, even if Manfredi kills Howard, Steve will probably be fine. "That's all. Peggy, would you ask Steve to come see me? I think he's playing video games with Tony."

"Of course." Peggy gives him a mysterious look before following Jarvis and Stane out the door.

A few minutes later, the door opens and Steve slips into the room. He looks nothing like the boy Howard met months ago. Anyone looking at him now—in a pair of loose fitting jeans and one of Tony's band t-shirts—might think he was just a regular teenage boy with regular teenage boy problems. 

"Ms. Carter said you wanted to talk to me?" Steve digs his toes into the carpet and lowers his lashes; the perfect picture of innocence. 

"We're going out tonight," he says and Steve looks startled. "I've got to meet a possible business associate."

"And you're bringing me?"

"Yes, you're going to be my dirty little secret." Howard smiles and gestures Steve over.

Steve comes to him willingly, eagerly, settling on Howard's lap. "I don't understand."

"I'm meeting with Silvio Manfredi." Steve tenses in his arms. "You know who that is."

"He's with the Maggia. He's got a son, Joe, who likes it rough, really rough. Girls see him coming and they run in the other direction."

Howard strokes Steve's hair. "What do you know about Silvio?"

"Not much, really. He lets other people do his dirty work." Steve shrugs and worries at his bottom lip. "I know he's old. People say he's over a hundred. Rumor is that he's a vampire or a mutant."

"Yeah." He pulls Steve down for a kiss. "He's not a good person."

"Are you—" Steve cuts himself off, but Howard knows what he wants to ask.

"I'm not a good person either, Steve. But I don't want to hurt people. I want to protect them. Do you understand?"

Steve nods, then looks away. "The nuns at the orphanage used to say that if you laid down with dogs, you'd wind up with fleas."

"You gotta get close to tell which ones are rabid."

"They're all rabid," Steve says angrily, then presses his lips together tightly, as if keeping in a torrent of words. He takes half a dozen deep breaths, visibly relaxing. "What do you want me to do?"

"What you're being paid to do. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah." Steve leans against him and shudders. "I'll keep my eyes and ears open, too. Sometimes people let things slip around sex workers. They think just because we do all our work in the bedroom that we must be stupid."

He kisses Steve on the cheek. "Go upstairs and get cleaned up. I'll be there in a minute to help you dress."

***** 

There isn't much to Steve's outfit: just a pair of white leather pants and a matching collar that serve to highlight the bruises on his pale skin. He looks absolutely sinful and Howard would like nothing more than to shove him back on the bed and fuck him. 

Howard hustles him into a car instead and they head out to a little bistro owned by the Manfredi family. Before they exit the car, Howard clips a leash to Steve's collar and gives him a gentle kiss. "Be a good boy for Daddy."

Steve nods and clings to him; Howard has to push him away when Peggy opens the car door. 

As soon as they enter the near empty bistro, they're frisked—they get two of Peggy's guns, but Howard knows she has more weaponry on her person than that—and then they're led to a back table.

"You're early, Stark," says Manfredi. He's sipping what looks like iced tea.

"I prefer it to being late. And, please, call me Howard, Mr. Manfredi." He smiles, cool and professional.

"Have a seat, Stark." Manfredi gestures to a chair; Howard settles into it. "Tell me who your friends are, Howard." 

"This is Ms. Carter. She's my personal assistant." He tugs on the leash and Steve sinks to his knees. He threads his fingers into Steve's hair and gives him an indulgent look. "And this my boy. Say hello, sweetheart."

"Hello, Mr. Manfredi," Steve says in a soft, shy voice, his cheeks flooding with color.

Manfredi's mouth twists with something like disgust. "Sweet."

"Yes, he is." Howard grins and presses a kiss to Steve's mouth.

"Why did you ask for this meeting, Stark?" Mafredi says. "I'm a busy man and you're wasting my time."

He lets out a sigh and leans back in his chair. "Of course, I apologize. I was sorry to hear about Hammer. That was an unfortunate accident." 

"He was gunned down in the middle of the street."

"Mm, yes." Howard shrugs. "If he'd been wearing a Stark Industries flak jacket, he might have survived. Which is why I’m here. I know that Hammer provided certain products for you and your… business partners? Would you call them business partners? Well, no matter. I'm here to put in my bid." 

Manfredi narrows his eyes and tilts his head. "What about your government contracts?" 

"My family has provided the American government with weapons since World War I. I keep my contracts with them for sentimental reasons. Unfortunately, sentiment is not very profitable. That's why I'd like to do business with you and your partners. I'm the best at what I do, Mr. Manfredi. Everybody knows that."

"I'll have to talk it over with my partners." 

"Of course." Howard gestures to Peggy and she hands him a flash drive. He sets it on the table. "My opening bid. And just to sweeten the deal, I'll send you and your men some samples of my products."

"You'd better be on the up and up, Stark. It would be unfortunate if your son had another accident." 

A sudden burst of rage floods his body and he tenses, but before he can do anything—like snap Manfredi's neck—and get them all killed, Steve slides onto his lap and kisses him.

"Can we go home now?" he asks, pouting. "I'm bored." 

Howard almost shoves Steve off of him, but then the rage eases away. "Yeah, yeah, we can go home now." He looks over at Manfredi. "My people will be in touch." 

No one says anything until they're well on their way back home.

"I thought you were going to blow it," Peggy says with a little laugh.

"I almost did." He reaches over and lays his hand on Steve's thigh. "When we bring them down, the first thing I'm going to do is cut off Manfredi Jr's dick and choke him with it while his father watches."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hang on Floopy!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/727501) by [AnonEhouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse)




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